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Gift Horses
Sweep Patrol Leader says, "Orbital patrol lead Alpha Three Two requesting Cybertron Command acknowledge." Shockwave says, "Acknowledged. Proceed, but note this channel may be monitored by Autobot Intelligence." Sweep Patrol Leader says, "Understood Shockwave. We have...something of interest that's drifted into the Alpha Centauri system. You may want to bring some security. Shockwave says, "Transmit exact coordinates to Darkmount. Decepticons, meet at the landing bay and prepare for immediate launch." Alpha Centauri System This trinary system consists of: Prima Facie, a yellow, Sol-like star; Altera, a smaller orange star; and Procul (Proximus), a distant red dwarf. It is the closest star system to that much-contested planet, Earth. Due to the gravitation effects between the three stars, anything captured by the system will either be pulled into one of the suns or have a very eccentric orbit between the three. Thousands of asteroids and comets follow strange orbital patterns, the remnants of a planet destroyed in Procul's explosive conversion to a red dwarf. Navigation is difficult but possible with experience; the stars' gravitational effects are predictable. Contents: Shockwave Derelict Quintesson Vessel Loadout Cybertron Mia Tria Obvious exits: Above Plane leads to Deep Space - Galactic Plane. Rimward leads to Deep Space - Subplanar. Coreward leads to Deep Space - Subplanar. Driftward leads to Deep Space - Subplanar. Spinward < s> leads to Midoran Asteroid Field. Derelict Quintesson Vessel The familiar corkscrew-shape of a Quintesson warship, this vessel is one of the last vestiges of a race that is scattered across the stars and on the verge of extinction. Though still whole, and seemingly functional, the ship is pockmarked with the signs of battle and general wear and tear without a berth to perform proper maintenance. How the mighty have truly fallen so far... The Alpha Centauri system remains well travelled by sweep patrols, ever wary for the present of Autobot orbital movements to and from Cybertron and on the lookout for exterior threats that could pose a problem for their homeworld as it continues to drift within the system, bathing in the life-giving light of multiple stars. One can never be too careful when out in deep space afterall. ...and this was no exception, as something -very- concerning had begun to drift into the system. After raising the figurative alarm, the pair of patrol Sweeps had taken up a shadowing pattern on the large object that silently invaded Cybertron's figurative airspace. There had been no signs of hostilities, no signs of life, even, as the ship seemed adrift and moving only on momentum rather than using its typical spinning-drive to propel itself through the cosmos. But active or not, it was still something for concern that made the two Sweeps take a cautious approach to following it and keeping tabs on it. The Quintesson Warship, pockmarked and holed in places, looked menacing even while silently coasting seemingly without purpose... From Cybertron's atmosphere comes her Guardian. It is an odd sight to see Shockwave's gun form leading Sweeps, but they are the best space warriors that the Decepticons have to offer... no matter what the Seekers may claim. The space gun soars upwards, slowly feeling the tug of Cybertron's gravity loosen. Eventually, Shockwave and his team are completely clear, heading towards the Quintesson ship. <> the gun radios, <> It may be difficult to tell, but the Military Commander is curious if this is one of the same ships that once hovered high over Polyhex during Franklin Cross's attempt to destroy it. <> F-35B Lightning II is one of those space-going jets that was so popular a few years ago, which allows her to easily keep pace with Shockwave and the Sweeps, as they go up to investigate any possible threats to Homeland Security! In Contrail's opinion, 'nuke it' is probably a perfectly valid answer, and she doesn't even have any idea what this is yet. When the ship comes into view, her fuel sings - a Quintesson ship! Yes, 'nuke it' /is/ a great answer! See, this is why Cybertron has Decepticons. To do the things sissy Autobots won't, like shoot first, shoot some more, explode the wreckage, and completely forget to ask questions later. << I'll do a high speed pass, my lord, to examine it. As for the Autobots - ah, well, most of Intelligence is assigned to the Perceptor Case, I am afraid, my lord. No clue if the Autobots know yet.>> Contrail screams by the examine the ship. Combat: Derelict Quintesson Vessel is not COMBAT-OK Contrail's path takes her winding past the huge Quintesson vessel, even amongst its corkscrew 'spires' that would be hazardous to fly past if the ship were operating under its own power, given it would be spinning rapidly as part of its design. Adrift though, it's a simple matter of flying in amongst it and getting an up-close look at the craft's current state. Battle damage is evident, with multiple places where there have been hull breaches cored through, though overall the ship itself seems to be still functional. There doesn't seem to be any damage to its primary weapon systems, but they remain inert and silent as the Decepticon streaks by at close range. Not that that would be reassuring under any circumstances, to say the least. The engines still do glow faintly, hinting that the powerplant is still active, if not in use, possibly due to interior damage. So far there doesn't seem to be any signs of life, at least from a cursory glance. The two shadowing sweeps arc in to join the formation of Decepticons as well, adding their own observations. "We picked up the ship entering the system a short time ago and went to investigate. We conducted two high speed passes of our own, but didn't draw any fire. Sensors are a little garbled but there could be some life signs on board based on what we've picked up, but we didn't want to conduct a boarding action without backup..." Try to find the two volunteers who will willfully board a Quint ship on their own and you might be looking for awhile. F-35B Lightning II reports what she sees, <> "Maybe we could claim this ship in the name of the Empire. Add it to the fleet..." One of the Sweeps suggests oh-so-helpfully, before he's bumped into by one of his comrades. "I like the blowing it up part better!" Laser Gun isn't interested in nuking the vessel before getting his answers. While he suspects that the Quintessons are easily capable of trickery involving a ship with falsified damage, he must learn all he can before making a decision on the ship's fate. As Contrail volunteers to do the initial flyover, Shockwave slows down. Fodder and Cannon do the same, letting Contrail go in alone. If this thing is a horrible trap, there's no sense in risking everyone. The two Sweeps with Shockwave are nervous as Contrail arcs around the corkscrew instruder. They are greatly relieved when their two brothers join them. <> Shockwave replies to Contrail, <> Shockwave moves forward towards wherever Contrail is going to indicate. This can be anything from opening an access hatch to blowing open a bulkhead. <> he tells the first Sweep. <> As the Decepticons discuss what to do, or rather what they'd -like- to do, the giant ship continues to lazily drift through the cosmos, an ever present backdrop behind them. Entry would be easy enough to gain, simply through one of the hull breaches or by forcing one's way in through a boarding hatch anywhere along the vessel. "Or there's that too..." One concedes at Shockwave's talk of stripping it down to see what makes it tick. "Still, could have been fun to see the look on the Autobots' faces if one of these was sent hurtling at them." The last time Contrail messed with a Quintesson ship, she ended up with a car mode. She does have a few misgivings about entering the ship, but she isn't going to let those get in the way of her duty to the Empire. Shockwave wants to do some extra-curricular research? Then it's time to go bust into a ship that is probably full of awful traps and mind-scarring horrors. She radios, <, at the biggest hull breach. If this is a trap, there will be definiely be traps here, but better to find out sooner than later.>> The fake Triple-Changer transforms and lands along the edges of the hull breach, engaging her space vectoring thrusters to stay steady. Then Contrail pulls out a bucket and flings it into the breach ahead of her, before following it. In a transformation that is harder than it looks, Contrail rises up into robot mode. Laser Gun and company follow Contrail in, having received the coordinates of where she plans on entering. Assuming the bucket does not reveal a trap, Shockwave reaches the threshold into the ship and transforms into robot mode, touching down on the hard Quintesson plating that makes up the floorboards. Immediately he begins looking around, wondering if the damage on the inside is as bad as the damage on the outside. The four Sweeps follow suit, unraveling into their cloaked robotic modes with their weapons already out. <> Shockwave declares, optic flashing in the darkness of the Quintesson cruiser. Shockwave's handle separates into legs as his barrel splits into arms. Straightening out, he completes his transformation into robot mode. The Sweeps have some misgivings, but follow obediently all the same. Each of them producing a forearm flashlight that they pan to and fro in front of them as they follow after the others... The ship was definitely boarded, once upon a time. There are signs of battle inside, and the telltale wreckages of Sharkticons, Allicons and several low ranked humanoid Quintesson warriors littering the hallways. Who or what did this to them remains a mystery, since if the attackers suffered any casualties, they must have taken their bodies back with them when they left. More decks are explored, and more of the same is discovered, all the way up until the bridge is reached. A massive Quintesson executioner bars the way, both hands gripped menacingly around his energy-staff as he glares straight ahead. "AUGH!" one of the sweeps calls out in alarm, coming face to face with the figure, and fires his pistol on impulse into its torso. THere's barely a *THUD* of impact and no noticable damage. But the Executioner topples over with a deafening crash, his glare frozen in time as he has long since been deactivated by some catastrophic damage judging by the hole that was already through his chestplate. The way to the bridge is left clear. Littered with refuse and broken pieces of equipment, there may once have been a last stand fought on this place, the culmination of a battle that came to an inevitable end. Robotic bits hang from the walls and are littered all over the floor, with no hints of any life anywhere. Save for the command deck, upon which a single swivel chair has been set up, currently facing away from the entrance as the voice suddenly booms out, "WHO DARES violate the Imperial sanctum of the Magistrate!?" Contrail does not actually touch any part of the ship, since she can vector in space. She keeps looking up at the ceiling. The dead bodies get no pity from her but a small amount of admiration for whoever did it. The Sweeps handle the... upright corpse in an acceptable fashiopn, she supposes, backing up just a bit and looking back at Shockwave. Have they learned enough yet? No? <<...crazy ghost Quintesson? Do you have odds on those, my lord?>> Her back-mounted weapons swing down over her shoulders, and she puts her bucket back away. "Sir!" one of the Sweeps says, already kneeling at the corpse of an Allicon. At Shockwave's glance, the Sweep shakes his head. The Allicon is dead. The Sweep gestures with a clawed hand down the hallway, shining a light in that direction to reveal the bodies of other Quintesson warriors. "No signs of attackers. Not even blood," one of them notes. Shockwave steps ahead of them, "Unless the attackers were *other* Quintessons." Wouldn't that be a fascinating possibility. The Sweep frowns, though, figuring it's more likely they're instead going to run in and find out who can wipe out a ship full of Quints with nary a loss. Time passes, with the Decepticons moving through the hallways in a careful and methodical manner, covering each other as they move down the corridors, shining their lights this way and that. For Shockwave, the glow of his single optic is enough. Soon enough, the crew reaches the command bridge, and once the 'guard' has been dealt with by the Sweep, Shockwave steps through. The bridge is in no better shape than the rest of the ship, but at least here there is life. As the voice booms, Shockwave motions to the others to ready their guns. Ignoring Contrail's comment, the cyclops replies in a loud, commanding tone. "This is Shockwave of the Decepticon Empire." He does not introduce any of the others. "You've entered Cybertronian airspace. Identify yourself or perish." Shockwave is already taking aim at the back of the swivel chair in case the answer is 'no'. "Decepticon...?" The voice speaks, slowly and hesitantly at first, as if digesting the word as something new. "Cybertronian...the sssslaves." A pause, followed by, "Former sssslaves? Oh ssssweet irony..." Slowly, the chair swivels about to face the gathered figures, as all weapons are pointed up and at the ready. Even by robotic standards, the sight the Decepticons are greeted with is nothing short of grotesque. Resting in the chair at an awkward angle, due to the anti-gravity beam system of its body long having been destroyed, is the remnants of the ovoid form of a Quintesson inquisitor. Four of his five faces are in various stages of having been destroyed or simply ripped from his body, and even the remaining one, his 'death' face, is in a sorry state. Half of its upper 'skull' is missing, and the jaw hangs at an awkward angle, half broken and barely functional, though his voice continues to work albeit with a screeching grating noise to it. The egg-shaped body has been caved in on an upper section, cracked like an eggshell, ironically, from which a slow stream of ichor and metallic fluid oozes at a tepid pace. Only one tendril remains intact, the others having long since been torn off, and it loosely and weakly grips a regal staff which it holds onto like a last vestige of life. "...how fitting...the children arrive, in the final momentssss...." He speaks, a tendril of energon 'drool' leaking from the corner of his mouth. "Are you here to finisssh the job? You're too late...my time isss almossst gone and you would hasssten the inevitable. Perhapsss there's sssomething elssse you want?" Contrail makes a face when she sees the dying /mess/. She wonders how long he has been dying, and she silently bids one of the Sweeps, not caring which, <> Her hands twitch into fists. Kill it. Kill that abomination. However, Shockwave said he wanted information, and it'l be up to him what they do. The chair turns, and there's a gasp from one of the Sweeps and looks of horror from the others. Even Shockwave is not unaffected, tilting his head up slightly to get a better look at the injuries the Quintesson has suffered. Whoever attacked clearly wanted to inflict as much pain as possible. It has been said that the removal of a face is excruciating for a Quintesson. "Contrail, find out what this Quintesson knows before it expires," Shockwave commands. "Do not expect cooperation." The Military Commander steps towards the sunken body to see whether it can be healed. Shockwave's knowledge of Quintesson anatomy is rudimentary, however, and even the Quintesson seems to think that its time is short. The Sweeps stay where they are, deciding they won't advance unless they're specifically ordered to do so. It's almost a relief when they're instead given the orders to investigate the corpses. Allicons and Sharkticons are stuff they can handle. The mouth opens slightly, and a rasping cough that turns into a grating laugh erupts from the sunken mess of the Quintesson's wrecked body. Shockwave's words seem to have elicited the response, as the Quint weakly wobbles the staff towards Shockwave as he approaches closer, "And how am I to resssisst anymore than you are to threaten me with a fate worssse than what faccess me?" Another cough racks its form, followed by a globule of glowing ichor that spatters upon the floor, even as the Quint struggles to turn its chair to face Contrail while Shockwave does his inspection. The creature does nothing to attempt to shy away from the one-eyed Commander, not that the Quint is in any shape to be able to do anything about it anyway. From what little Shockwave knows of Quintesson physiology, the creature certainly seems to be mortally wounded. Any sort of damage to the 'eggshell' is usually serious for their race, but this seems to have gone even further, with significant internal damage visible within the hole as well. And given the way the fluids are trickling out steadily, it's probably just a matter of time. "Go ahead. Assssk your quessstionssss. Do you want to know who did thisss? Who didn't. Our race is ssscattered acrosss the ssstarsss. We are hunted by many othersss, not jussst yourssselves. This ssship has fought off two dozen attacksss in the last year. Perhapsss...it wasss inevitable..." Sweep says, "Some of these sharkticons have been deactivated at different times. If he's telling the truth, then it might be after each successive fight they didn't clean up the mess...or they weren't able to." Contrail says, "Can you check and see if some of the energon and ichor on them isn't from the victims? Like - did other Quintessons and their minions attack them?" Contrail draws her two-tailed electric whip, and she approaches the dying creature. Beating answers out of a Quintesson for the sake of the Empire would give her great pleasure. However, this Quintesson is /dying/. Hurting it more is just going to make it die faster, which means there are less questions she can ask that it can defiantly refuse to answer. Contrail frowns unhappily to herself as she realises this fact. She needs to use something other than brute force here, and brute force is her forte. After some considering, she asks, "Do you have any form of last rights? Some way you want to be laid to rest? Some... traditional songs you want sung? Name it, and I'll see it done." Only because it serves the Empire. "Now. Why were you coming /here/?" Cybertron is a good place for Quintessons to die. Hard to tell cause there doesn't seem to be much for remains. Looks like blast marks from several different weapon types though. Different technologies. Maybe some even were Cybertronian in origin, some corresponding to known alien races. A few that don't match up with anything in our records. Seems like several different bunches -did- take successive stabs at them. Sweep says, "Hard to tell cause there doesn't seem to be much for remains. Looks like blast marks from several different weapon types though. Different technologies. Maybe some even were Cybertronian in origin, some corresponding to known alien races. A few that don't match up with anything in our records. Seems like several different bunches -did- take successive stabs at them." Shockwave steps up 'behind' the Quintesson while he turns to face(?) Contrail. A very brief inspection later, and Shockwave shakes his head at Contrail, signaling that the Quintesson is indeed going to die. This makes their bargaining posture highly dubious. While Contrail offers comfort to the dying, Shockwave offers something a bit more Decepticon. "We can offer you something more, Quintesson: Vengence. Tell us everything about the races who attacked you. Your 'children' will therefore annihilate them upon encountering them during our eventual conquest." The idea that the Quintessons are fading as a species is supposedly an accurate one and consistent with Cybertron's dealings with them since the destruction of Quintessa. But of course, Quints are all about the long game... "Of course, you won't see it is done." The dying Quint rasps in return to Contrail, struggling with herculean effort to bring itself up just a bit so it can lean 'closer' to her, as if share in a conspiracy for her audials alone. "You will get what you can from me, and if I cannot be retained for future information, I will simply be disposed of. Perhaps dissected. You have no care for my vengeance, or my legacy. I know this..." The Quint leans a bit closer, twisting in place to ensure that the commander behind him is in his gaze too as he whispers loudly. "Because I would do the same to you." Slowly and painfully he leans back against the chair. "Fortunately for you, Shockwave and Contrail of the Decepticon Empire..." He's been paying attention to the names...even in his last moments his attention is sharp. "...as my life ebbs away, I am feeling charitable. Perhaps out of spite, perhaps out of curiosity. If there is an afterlife, maybe I will be able to see what you do with this information...I came here for no obvious reasons that even occur to me. In the moments as my body began to fail me in full, I plotted the ship's course here with the last remnants of power I could muster before its systems broke down. Nostalgia perhaps? Who knows. It is no secret that the Quintessons have many enemies, and our ability to resist them has faded over time." The staff is tapped once against the floor, weakly, the body spinning just slightly so as to look at Shockwave and Contrail both. "In no small part to the efforts of your race. Oh yes, no Quintesson would tell you what I do now. We are nearly gone from this universe. Those who remain put up quite a show, but they hide the reality..." He rasps and coughs again, before finding the strength to continue. "The Quintessons, are nearly extinct. How does it feel to hear it at last?" Contrail puts one hand on her hip and tilts her head down somewhat, looking a bit mulish. She will do whatever it takes for a mission, even if she thinks it is stupid! Contrail is prepared to sing fragging 'Bah Bah Black Sheep' if that serves the Empire and lays waste to their enemies. Dealing with Quintessons is tough, though. Everything is a lie wrapped in in a truth wrapped in mindscrew wrapped him cosmic horror wrapped in a Xanatos gambit. Just talking to a Quintesson means that Contrail is thinking above her weight limit. No obvious reason? Yeah, right. Fat chance of that. She moves in a bit closer to make it easier for the Quintesson to look at them both. Then Contrail growls, "It feels like I want the security codes for this ship." Extinct? Could it be true? "Such is the fate of all enemies of the Empire. You should have bowed when you had the chance. Now you're broken, and I didn't even have to lift a finger." Shockwave was hoping the Quintesson would be driven more out of the desire to ensure his enemies are killed--not because the Decepticons would do it on their behalf, but because it is simply what Decepticons do. It was a long shot, though, as the Quintesson notes that the Decepticons (and, Shockwave concedes, the Autobtos) *are* their greatest enemy. "If the Quintessons become extinct it will be celebrated across the Decepticon Empire--perhaps by the entire galaxy," Shockwave states, clenching a fist. "However do not think that we won't find out for ourselves the condition of your species." As Contrail lays down the demand, Shockwave states, "You have two choices before you, Quintesson: you can defy us and die, forcing us to strip this ship down for our own purposes; or you can start revealing secrets. The ship's command codes, access to your technology, and details on the races who assaulted you. Eventually the Decepticons will meet them, and we will use that knowledge to obliterate them." "Of course...never trust a Quintesson. You'll see soon enough, I am certain." A few moments pass as the equivelant of rasping breaths are taken, rattling the ovoid form before he continues, "Ahhh yes. Single minded purpose, you know what you want from me, don't you? Beware that arrogance, for with it you follow exactly in our footsteps. We once held power magnitudes greater than your own, and thought exactly as you did of every foe we met. That we would crush them under our splendeur. And yet look at us now." Finally, the dying Quint releases his hold on the staff, letting it clatter to the ground before he taps a button the chair. The bottom of it shifts and begins to transform until it grows a dozen skittering legs that help carry him off the deck and towards the command console of the ship. His single tendril waves idly towards Contrail and Shockwave both in a 'follow me' gesture. "And yet all this time and you still have not defeated your -own- greatest foes. If you are going to follow the same path we did, you're going to have to do better than that. You're going to have to -be- better than we were. Treat every foe as if they could be your greatest. Make no assumptions or it will be your undoing as it was ours." The single tendril taps several keys on the console, before a small datapad ejects outwards, which he takes hold of and looks upon for a few seconds. "What I commit now could be considered treason to the Quintesson Empire. But there is no more empire to follow, so it is empty words. Perhaps it could be seen as a final gift to the children, to see what they do with it. If they will succeed, or join their creators in the failure of oblivion." With a heavy sigh, the Quint leans back into the chair, his tendril raising the data module up for one of the Decepticons to take as they see fit. "The ship is yours. You may be disappointed that much coveted secrets have been desroyed, but perhaps eventually...in time, you will find something...of use." Contrail reaches out her hand to take what he offers, provided that Shockwave does not first. (If he does, she will defer to him.) It could be poison. It could be a plague that will kill them all. Better her than Shockwave. A vicious smiles crosses her faces, and she says, "/Thanks/. Your compliance is appreciated. Provided that Lord Shockwave doesn't say otherwise, I'll see you off as I'd see off one of my Seekers." That's not as great as it sounds. Seekers are taken apart for recycling, and what can't be reused outright is smelted. But there's no dishonour or shame in it. "So, if you're so smart, what /should/ I have been asking, huh?" Shockwave listens to the speech about how the Decepticons are going down the same path of the Quintessons. Shockwave notes numerous differences between the way their goals and the way they operate. Still, Shockwave is under no illusions that the Decepticons are flawless. Defeat at the hands of the Autobots, running into stagnation, being crushed by some external force, being torn apart by internal squabbles, becoming too large and bloated to support its own weight... all of these are threats that Shockwave works against... not just for now, but for the next four millenia as he did in the past four. Letting Contrail take the data module (especially in case it ends up exploding), Shockwave steps up to the console the Quintesson used, examining it from over his 'shoulder'. Already he's planning the best way to take this thing apart and find out what secrets it holds. The Quintesson said that most was likely destroyed... and this is probably true, but nevertheless. "None. You asked the questions you should have, as to what I wanted, and the answer was...nothing." The Quint leans forward in the seat, his ruined, remaining face staring to the floor. "I have what I want, circumstances...permitting..." The tentacle drapes at his side, halfway curling around his ruined egg-shaped body. "...like us, you are not cursed with the succeeding generations of other lesser short-lived races...your memories are long, like ours. You will always remember..." A pause. A long silence. "...we will be gone...from this universe..." Another pause, another silence. "...but like it or not...you will...-always-...remember us..." A pause. And nothing more comes from the Quint, as his lone tendril slowly slides free to drape lifelessly to the floor. Experimentally, one of the sweeps gets up the courage to reach out and tap a clawed finger against the egg-shaped body, a soft *TINK TINK* issuing out. Contrail gives the Sweep a severe look, and she gingerly holds the data module. She does not seem to be dying a horrible death yet. That holds promise. Then Contrail mutters, "I may be cursed to always remember you, but the fact is, I don't even know your name." She experimentally tries to see what's on the datapad. ...access codes? Really? That seems too good to be true... Shockwave turns his head towards the Quintesson as he dies. He is silent for several seconds, likely to collect his thoughts rather than out of respect, until the Sweep taps his claw against the cracked oval-shaped body. Then Shockwave goes right back to issuing orders, "Sweep the ship and ensure there are no other survivors. Contrail, take command of the ship." He gestures at the console the Quintesson was using before moving back to the command deck. He's the Commander of this vessel now. <> Shockwave says, "Shockwave to Darkmount Control. Clear the Polyhex landing pad of all ships and reroute any incoming traffic to Darkmount or Crystal City. We will be returning within four thousand astro-seconds." The sweeps still give a wide berth to the dead Quintesson, as if half afraid it'll start moving again and doing horrible things with that tentacle. But they busy themselves with the process of tending to the ship itself. The damage to the main drive systems is relatively simple to jury-rig back to a functional state, it's no shock that the Quint was in no shape to do it beforehand. Sure enough, the codes provided in the datapad are genuine... ...and though the ship is damaged heavily, and there are plenty of sections that still do not function, power thrums as the vessel begins to shudder. And slowly, oh so slowly, the entire body begins to turn, the great corkscrew starting to spin again as the ship adjusts its course ever so slightly, shifting from the languid drift into the system into a direct course for Cybertron itself. ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL, Contrail enters the access codes. She isn't familiar with Quintesson technology, so this takes a few fumbling tries, but soon, the... ship is hers? Seriously? Wow. They're all totally going to come down with a horrible plague, aren't they? Still, Contrail murmurs, "...Straxus's axe. This is... several millenia of ship's log and database. My analysts are going to be picking this apart for /decades/." To quote for the sake of the log, the datapad has the access codes to get control of the ship. It also contains ship's logs and fragmented databases that go back several millennia worth of anything from day to day activities to detailing some of the greater exploits of Quintesson history. There's enough to pour through for the most intense geekgasm imaginable for any sort of history-minded individual. There's damage and gaps of course, the ship's databanks were damaged in the process. But there's still quite a lot to nerd-spoit over. here's fragmented data files on all kinds of prominent Cybertronian individuals from past to present, of course. Shockwave would be among them. It's the equivalent of like, if this were Star Trek, you just got handed access to a Federation starship and its library. Contrail is afraid what she's going to find if she looks up Insecticons, though. Darkmount Traffic Controller says, "Acknowledged, Shockwave. Vectoring your approach for...uh...that ship is...it a...?" He pauses, then quickly finishes, "Darkmount Control reports all clear, you may make planetfall when ready!" Contrail says, "Get a quarantine forcefield up, and I want decontam kits at the ready." Shockwave steps over a dead Allicon on the way back to the swivel chair. Slowly, he sits where the now dead Quintesson once was, unmindful of the blood still on the seat. It isn't as comfortable as a standard chair, but Shockwave pays it no mind. "Take us back to Cybertron, Contrail. As you say... we have additional work cut out for us." Still, the Quintesson's words do not go unforgotten. This seems to be a gift out of the blue, but Shockwave won't let himself get overconfident by it. There are still a great number of things that can thwart it, and as the Quintesson vessel soars back to Cybertron, Shockwave catches a glimpse of Iacon on the viewscreen. Decepticon Message: 2/98 Posted Author Funeral Sun Dec 16 Contrail ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ There is a small note in the databanks that Contrail has requested a Seeker funeral (recycling and smelting) for an undisclosed body, to be carried out /without any questions/ and /without any chatter about the identity of the deceased/. Probably just a dead black ops agent. Probably. Decepticon Message: 2/99 Posted Author Quintesson Ship Recovered Mon Dec 17 Shockwave ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Shockwave appears on the screen from the Polyhex spaceport (the one at ground level in the city). Behind him, all the Decepticon shuttles have been cleared out, and in its place is a familiar vertical corkscrew shaped vessel sporting heavy damage. "Ten thousand astroseconds ago a wing of Sweep patrollers discovered a battle damaged Quintesson ship drifted into Cybertronian airspace. Director Contrail and I, along with the Sweeps, boarded the vessel, where we found it in a state of disrepair. The decks were littered with the corpses of Quintesson troops, having apparently been killed by repeated attacks over a long period of time." The camera pulls back to reveal the full view of the Quintesson ship. There's hull breaches all along its hull, and a keen observer can see where its defences have been blasted off by high powered ship-based weaponry. Engineers are already scouring it to see what can be learned from it. "The sole survivor was a Quintesson... though he was mortally wounded. Before expiring he stated the Quintesson Empire has been splintered, and the species as a whole is nearly extinct. After the destruction of Quintessa, the remaining Judges went off in their direction. Communication with their equals lessened over time as they faced attacks from other alien races bent on revenge." The view refocuses back onto Shockwave. "This information has been corroborated by the data module recovered from him, including all ship and communication logs. Decepticons, I need not explain to you the risks inherent in believing a Quintesson, or how easily this could be an attempt to lull us into a false sense of security." "Presently, Contrail has landed the ship at Polyhex. Logistics is to strip it down. Determine whether it or any of its parts can be salvaged. Intelligence, verify what you can of the Quintesson's claims. We still hold a prisoner from their ill-advised alliance with Franklin Cross. His knowledge may be useful to us. Shockwave out."